Chess set bestiary

A bestiary of creatures resembling slightly larger than man-size chess pieces. As always, a wizard did it.

The first generation of these beasts probably started their lives as farm animals. The unknown wizard warped them to resemble the pieces of a chess set. Perhaps as living decoration for some noble's lawn.

Now they run wild, nesting wherever they find croquet hoops, topiaries and lawn furniture. Not much of a threat to the seasoned adventurer, but commoners would be well advised to let professionals handle them. 

These creatures are hard to hurt, but don't do much damage individually.

Pawn

Pawns are the juvenile form of the chesspiece. They only grow as high as a human's eyes. As they get older they take the form of whatever piece is missing from the set. If the set is complete, they stay small and immature.

AC 4 [15], HD 2 (9 HP), ATT 1 x peck (1d4), THAC0 18 [+1], MV 120' (40'), SV D14 W15 P16 B17 S18 (NH), ML 8 (10 in pack), AL Neutral, XP 20, NA 1d3 (2d4), TT none

Rook

When surprised, threatened, angry, or even just bored, the rook will lower its battlements and charge. It prefers to charge enemies, but any moving thing will do.

AC 4 [15], HD 2+2 (11 HP), ATT 1 x butt (1d4), THAC0 17 [+2], MV 120' (40'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (1), ML 10, AL Neutral, XP 25, NA 1d2 (2), TT none

Knight

Knights are the fastest of the chesspieces, but once they start a charge they can't easily stop it. If they need to, they'll attempt to leap an enemy and circle for another attack. They use their hooves as weapons.

AC 4 [15], HD 3 (13 HP), ATT 1 x trample (1d4), THAC0 16 [+3], MV 240' (80'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (2), ML 8, AL Neutral, XP 35, NA 1d2 (2), TT none

Bishop

Bishops scuttle around on crab-like legs, approaching a target obliquely. They attack with giant pincers, normally kept hidden under their robes.

AC 4 [15], HD 3 (13 HP), ATT 1 x snip (1d4), THAC0 16 [+3], MV 120' (40'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (3), ML 8, AL Neutral, XP 35, NA 1d2 (2), TT none

Queen

The most agile piece. The queen has six strong legs under her skirt, with gripping talons like an eagle's. She can run, jump and corner with grace. She also has a natural sceptre attack.

AC 4 [15], HD 3+3 (16 HP), ATT 1 x talons (1d4) or sceptre (1d6), THAC0 16 [+3], MV 180' (60'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (3), ML 8, AL Neutral, XP 50, NA 1 (1), TT none

King

The King can mimic speech like a parrot. He'll often repeat phrases he's been taught, like "reinforce the archers", "send the pikemen forward" and "at them, men!" In a fight, his movements are slow and ponderous.

AC 4 [15], HD 4 (18 HP), ATT 1 x shove (-), THAC0 15 [+4], MV 60' (20'), SV D10 W11 P12 B13 S14 (4), ML 8, AL Neutral, XP 75, NA 1 (1), TT none

Herds of chesspieces appear in either black, white or red plumage. Their preferred targets are pieces of different colours. Even so, they're prepared to attack anything vaguely threatening they come across in their territory,

The why of inns

This inn is (1d6):

1. a tidy building at a crossroads
2. a rundown building on a trade road
3. a rebuilt ruin at a river crossing
4. the remains of a demolished larger building on the outskirts of a city
5. a grounded boat
6. a rich man's house, now converted to trade
   

with (1d6):

1. a decorative weather vane.
2. a brightly painted sign.
3. a fresh coat of whitewash.
4. a mildly scandalous name.
5. an outside fire pit and roasting spit.
6. a crane for loading and unloading carts.
   

Outside there is (1d6):

1. a farrier working in the courtyard.
2. a barber-surgeon using a shed as a surgery.
3. a wheelwright repairing carts.
4. a carpenter making barrels.
5. a blacksmith repairing a horse harness.
6. a group of tiny stalls selling to passers-by.
   

 The proprietor is (1d6):

1. an ex-soldier who bought the place with his pension.
2. a no-nonsense alewife from a brewing family.
3. a young gambler, well out of their depth, who won the inn in a card game.
4. a fat and bustling cook.
5. a dour man who says little.
6. a cheerful gossip, who sells rumours to law enforcement.
   

It offers (1d6):

1. ale flavoured with local herbs*
   
2. strong beer brought by cart from a township miles away
3. dark beer from a nearby monastery
4. spirits brought by sea
5. wine, sort of
6. an alcoholic concoction of the owner's, which locals seem to like
   

and (1d6):

1. a stew of nameless meat, with black bread.
2. mutton stew with brown bread. 
3. pickled pork with bread and cheese.
4. a selection of pies with dried fruit for dessert.
5. grilled river fish.
6. barley soup with cabbage. So much cabbage.
   

Entertainment is provided by (1d6):

1. a girl who sings folk songs.
2. a bard who plays lute.
3. an old man who can whistle any tune.
4. a juggler.
5. an arm-wrestling contest.
6. a skittles game in the courtyard.

Tired customers can (1d6):

1. sleep under their cloaks near the common room fire.
2. pay for a straw pallet in a sleeping hall.
3. pay for a cot in a dormitory.
4. pay for a bed in a shared room.
5. pay for a good bed in a shared room with a few amenities.
   
6. hire a private room with its own fireplace and a maid to empty the chamber pot.**
   

An unusual feature is (1d6):

1. a high stockade wall, in good repair
2. boards across windows facing the sunrise
3. an obscure holy symbol over the door
4. a cellar bigger than the building
   
5. a bricked up room
6. 'decorative' weapons mounted on every wall
   

and an unusual quality is (1d6):

1. a ghost. It wails in the common room at midnight. 
2. a writ from the local lord. It empowers the proprietor to keep customers inside after dark on the night of the new moon.
3. a forest spirit who comes in for a drink every summer solstice.
4. a fireplace that won't light unless everyone present asks it to. Politely.
5. the rent. The proprietor leaves a beer barrel in a nearby stand of trees once a month. It's empty by morning.
6. that several times each year, a party of riders leaves with one riderless horse. No-one seems to notice.

Click here to randomly generate: 

(Thanks to Spwack of the Slight Adjustments blog for the generator code.)

* Modern beers are usually flavoured with hops. Earlier beers were flavoured with whatever the brewer thought would make a good addition.

** Beds in medieval times were a Big Deal. If you had one, it meant you could afford the material and labour for someone to build and decorate one for you. In fact, if you had one, it was probably on display where guests could see it. Not something you slept in! Want realism in your game? Shorten this list to "you share a pile of straw and a blanket with two strangers. Make a saving roll vs fleas."

The why of noble families

A set of tables for figuring out the local rulers and what their deal is.

These nobles are (1d6):

1. the last scions of a fading dynasty.
2. a small and tight-knit crew.
3. an extended clan of half-siblings, cousins and adoptees.
4. multiple branches at odds over the family money and land.
5. an obscure distant cousin and blood relatives who inherited from the main line.
6. a recently-elevated fighter & family, trying to act respectable.

Their family head is (1d6):

1. a stolid warrior, experienced in war and administration.
2. a second son who inherited when his brother died. Possibly mad.
3. a disciplinarian grandmother who rules her descendants with an iron fist.
4. a scheming uncle, always looking for ways to increase his family's fortunes, and therefore, his.
5. a weak-willed figurehead with a cunning spouse whispering evil plans to them.
6. a brash and impatient hunter who prefers entertainment over business.
   

Their realm is mostly (1d6):

1. farmland.
2. riverland.
3. forest. 
4. rocky.
5. marshy.
   
6. mixed (roll twice).

It sometimes suffers from (1d6):

1. drought.
2. flooding.
3. heatwaves.
4. freezing winters.
5. crop blight.
6. plague.
   

Their income is from (1d6):

1. collecting rent.
2. investment and moneylending.
3. mining on family land.
4. timber and sawyering.
5. charging tolls on a trade route.
6. sources they don't talk about.

A notable family accomplishment is (1d6):

1. victory in a historic battle.
2. victory in an honour duel.
3. ridding the district of a dangerous monster.
4. cultivating a new wine grape.
5. pacifying a warlike people.
6. draining a swamp to create arable land.

A family misfortune is (1d6):

1. madness in the bloodline.
2. no suitable heirs.
   
3. a rivalry with another noble family.
   
4. a debt to a supernatural creature.
5. declining finances.
6. a generational curse.

An advantage they have is (1d6):

1. an alliance by marriage to a more powerful family.
2. a sturdy and well-provisioned keep.
3. a busy trade route through their land.
4. a local religion which venerates their ancestors.
5. a powerful knight sworn to them.
6. a wise and loyal advisor.
   

Their current biggest problem is (1d6):

1. unrest among the peasants.
2. evil cults gaining a foothold in their territory.
3. monsters killing people at night.
4. banditry.
5. a dismal prophecy.
6. omens and portents.
   

In their lands, adventurers are (1d6):

1. expelled.
2. barely tolerated.
3. watched, but allowed to work.
   
4. ignored for the most part.
5. encouraged.
6. celebrated.

Click here to randomly generate:

(Thanks to Spwack of the Slight Adjustments blog for the generator code.)

The Shaldon prison

A prison which polymorphs its prisoners into forms more suitable for selling into slavery.

The fishermen of Shaldon always enjoy a plentiful catch thanks to the town's good relationship with nearby merman settlements. The aquatic creatures guide their fishing boats to shoals where they can spread their nets. In return, the town maintains the prison and uses it to jail criminals and other unwanted visitors.

The cells are short of amenities - there's no point putting bedding down when it'll just wash away. The cliff-side prison is built so that the lowest level, where the cells are, is below the high tide line. 

The cells have spells built into their very bricks. First Sleep, to keep prisoners from panicking as the waves start to splash into their enclosures. Then Polymorph, to change them into mermen. When the tide reaches its peak, The Shaldon mermen swim in to collect their new slaves. A life of cultivating kelp awaits them.

Prisoners who make their saves and resist the Sleep spell aren't as lucky. If they're not asleep, Polymorph doesn't trigger. They're likely to drown when the air pockets at ceiling height turn stale.

There are three cells the guards don't use. They may never have been used. Instead of polymorphing the occupants into mermen, they change them into sharks. Each door is closed from the outside with a handle that must be twisted upward to open them. Each handle has a wooden float secured to it by a cord, so the doors unlock by themselves when under water. The guards don't talk about these cells.

The soul-cleansing pool

A device that drains the evil out of a person and stores it unsafely.

The abbey at Mospid town owns a curious device, a shallow pool connected by underground pipes to a man-sized glass globe. Anyone who enters the pool while it's active has all their evil thoughts and impulses sucked down the drain and into the globe forever. Once in the water, the suction applied to their contained evil keeps them from stepping out until the transformation is finished and the evil is gone. 

People who have been through the process are placid, cooperative, and completely unable to make decisions for themselves. Perfect for cloistered monks. They work the abbey's fields and dairy herds, producing the famous Mospid cheese the abbey earns so much of its income from. The abbey also accepts a small fee from the local magistrate for every malcontent they turn into a productive member of society. As the abbot himself would say, the order is doubly blessed. (And any rumours about converts working themselves to death while their careless minders sleep or gamble are vile lies and perilously close to blasphemy.)

If there's one fly in his ointment, it's the glass globe. During the first year the pool was used, the evil it contained was just a thin haze. Now it's a roiling dark cloud crackling with electrical discharges. Sometimes the globe rocks on its stone base. The abbot has it strapped in place with ropes and nets while the pool's not in use. While it is, and there are visitors watching, he has men standing around it ready to steady it as needed. They don't like touching it. It feels like doing something shameful.

Clearly the amount of evil being stored now is a problem. The abbot has been experimenting with draining evil into pilgrims. These pilgrims come to the abbey for hospice care while they die, conveniently wiping out the burden of second-hand evil. The process is difficult. Like trying to take a cupful of water from a high pressure hose. Excess evil has been leaking out into the surroundings. It causes nightmares, sickens livestock and sours milk. The abbot suspended the experiments when hostile half-human creatures started to appear in nearby forests.

The obvious solution is to close the pool down and pay someone to lose the globe out past the edges of civilisation. The abbot vetoed that idea. Mospid Abbey depends on on the money and workforce the pool generates. Instead, he's been paying wizards and sages to secretly travel to Mospid and examine the globe. None of them have had any useful suggestions yet, so he has them processed through the pool to keep the secret.

The problem is coming to a crisis point. It's the perfect time for a party of adventurers to make things better worse different.